Come Summer
by dancewithdragons
Summary: A look into the future of Tywin and Sansa had it been the Lion of Casterly Rock who married the Princess of the North. AU, Fluff. (Rated K)


The gardens were aglow with warmth and the pond looked like a million diamonds as the sun shimmered, casting a golden haze over the realm. Quiet giggles made the air sweet and butterflies fluttered around the rosaries, alongside the birds and fireflies.

"I'm coming to find you," their mother called through the grounds of the yard, the sounds of her footsteps echoing against the strong stone walls, covered in plush green vines. "You can't hide forever, little ones."

More laughter roused from the thickets of hydrangeas and her lips curved upwards as she dove her hands into the bushes and she wrapped her arms around a young child, pulling him from the ground and holding him to her hip as best as she could manage with her stomach so pronounced. It was her son, Joren, a boy with soft waves of gold and large green eyes, smiling at her brightly. "How did you know I was there, mother?" He asked as she pressed her lips to his forehead.

Sansa ran her hands through his silky mane and smiled. "Magic, love," she whispered to his ear before she set him down. "Come, help me find your brother and sisters." The seven year old eagerly nodded, skipping off in search of his siblings while she trailed leisurely behind him.

The sound of a sneeze gave away the second child, and her head turned to the lavender patch just beside the flowerbed. "Helena," she called softly. The stocks of purple shifted and she caught sight of a wisp of gold. Green eyes peeped from behind the plant shyly and her mother knelt before her. The eldest of her daughters made haste in wrapping her arms around her neck and she smiled, patting the girl on the back. "My sweet girl," she cooed.

Joren ran up and grabbed his twin sister by the hand, dragging her along while she suckled her thumb innocently. "Come on, Helena, lets find the others!" He urged, and Sansa watched them go.

They pounced on their youngest brother, a boy of five with matching gold waves and emerald eyes. "We found you, Royce!" Announced the eldest lion cub, giggling when his brother began tickling his sides. Helena blushed and ran from them when they chased after her, and there was a tugging on their mother's dress.

She looked away from her cubs to see her last child, a little girl of only two years with long auburn spirals and deep blue eyes; her mother's replica. She held her arms out and curled them about the babe, who opened and closed her chubby hands in the direction of her mother's round stomach. "Baby," she gurgled, clapping her hands when her mother tickled under her chin.

"Very good, Catherine," she hummed to her daughter, holding her close. "Baby," she whispered softly as she took the girls hand and rubbed it in small circles over her eight-month-along stomach.

Her attention was turned back to her elder children as they screamed in delight and their trills of laughter rang through the air like bells. "Hurry up, Helena," Royce called over his shoulder as the boys scurried across the garden, their sister trying to catch up with them, her skirts of ruby held in her fists as to not restrict her legs.

"Wait!" She begged, face slipping into an expression of determination as she ran; an expression she inherited from her father.

An arm slipped around Sansa's waist, over her large stomach, and she looked up to see her husband, staring down at her with his deep green eyes. "My lord," she greeted, smiling warmly.

His face was stoney, as was his only practice, but his eyes told all. "My lady," he replied, reaching over to smooth down Catherine's ringlets, finger trailing down her cheek and lingering slightly before he let his hand fall back to the life that swelled in his wife's belly.

He was older now, her husband, but so was she. No longer was she the silly girl she had been when her family was destroyed, but a firm woman with nearly five children and a castle to run; the castle of Casterly Rock.

After her marriage to Tywin, he sent her to the Rock, keeping her safe from the boy king's ruthless will. It had not been a happy marriage at first; in fact, it was said to be the coldest wedding in the history of the realm, but years went on and when Joffrey died and Tywin came home, their bond grew ever strong.

They expected their first child two years into their marriage, and throughout the pregnancy Tywin wouldn't let her out of his sight. When she birthed twins, first Joren and then Helena, and her life was at risk, he swore she would drink moon tea every bedding afterwards, though that idea of it was never put to action and out came Royce two years behind his brother and sister. The day sweet Catherine was born was when Tywin first said he loved her.

It wasn't a perfect match, nor was it particularly useful, but they had found each others weaknesses and broke them down, building strengths in the empty spaces instead. They fit like puzzle pieces, becoming as one with one another as she remembered her mother and father to be, unwilling to let each other go or leave each others side. They were all each other had, aside from their four, soon to be five, children.

Sansa felt his lips press to her temple and she leaned into him slightly as they watched their children play, howling like wolves and roaring likes lions. "Awoo, awoo," Catherine mimicked, and when she looked up, she swore her husband smiled, however slightly.

Royce pointed in their direction and all three of the elder children smiled wide, waving to their father and mother happily as the golds and crimsons of the sunset painted their skin. Tywin gave them a single nod, but they all knew how he loved them; more so than his first three children.

Cersei and Jaime had disgraced themselves, and each were married off to lesser houses to preserve whatever worth they had left, but they had been found in traveling garb, dead in an inn with a vile of the Tears of Lyse on their rented wardrobe. Their death had affected him, for they were the first children betwixt he and his first love Joanna, but at least they had died together, just as they had come into the world.

Tyrion was rumored to be the Hand of the Dragon Queen beyond the Narrow Sea, who never got to step foot into Westeros before her dragons turned on her and burned her so hot that even her thick Valyrian flesh charred and sloughed from the bone. He was labeled an exile by the new Hand of the King, Mace Tyrell, who led Tommen on the golden path alongside Kevan Lannister, who helped the boy that was now sixteen and expecting a child with his wife, Lady Margaery.

Her hand fell to her own stomach, laying over her husbands, and she smiled as he intertwined their fingers. They came from broken lives- Sansa from a ruined childhood and disheveled innocence, Tywin from a traumatic, crushing loss and horrid parenthood- but together, as wolf and lion, they thrived and prospered as much as their summer garden, with their beautiful children playing and laughing and the sunset glowing their House colors. Theirs was a song of pain and hope, of give and take- A song of ice and fire.


End file.
